


A Right to Earn

by radishleaf



Series: The Fool, Reversed - Ezra Oneshots [11]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banter, Blow Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Canon, Spoilers, Teasing, it doesn't affect lucio at all, once again slight canon divergence but only with my apprentice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 23:15:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20750381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radishleaf/pseuds/radishleaf
Summary: A year since their first encounter, Montag returns to the thief who stole his dignity to reclaim what is his. Yet, Ezra offers him something worth so much more.





	A Right to Earn

**Author's Note:**

> this was a WIP i had sitting around, so i decided to finish it. slowly but steadily i'm making my way through the fics i just have sitting around, aha. 
> 
> this is a direct sequel to the fic, "to earn the right," but you needn't have read it to get the gist of this one. it's all pwp in the end, so if that's your cup of tea, go drink it up first before giving this one a go. i actually hate how i wrote this, but w/e. it's practice all the same.
> 
> as always, kindly disregard any grammatical errors, punctuation mistakes, and the like. i tried to be thorough. enjooooy.

Lucio thanked whatever heavenly deity lay above for the moonless night, as it made his journey through the forest easier. He moved seamlessly, barely brushing up a stray twig or dead leaf, as the flapping tent beckoned him forth like the pale hand of a coquettish woman. Once to its side, Lucio unsheathed his sword and sliced into the canvas. It went through without any give, but produced a tinny whine as he slit down the tightly woven fabric. He winced, expecting his inevitable capture, but not a person came. Mentally thanking his blessing again, Lucio angled himself through the flap, and entered the tent.

It was terribly dark inside, worse off when compared to the surrounding forest, making it difficult for Lucio’s eyes to adjust. Coupled with the wide expanse littered with all manner of knickknacks (the mercenary couldn’t understand why the leader of a bunch of thieves needed such a sizeable tent, let alone a furnished one), he began to think his reservoir of luck had just run dry. He couldn’t discern a thing, but he was there for a reason, and there was no way Lucio was leaving empty-handed.

Not when Ezra took almost everything from him but a year ago.

Slowly and steadily, Lucio crept along the sides of the tent, carefully maneuvering around anything that might topple over or produce noise come his passing. He used his sword to guide the way; tapping here or there and giving pause when he struck something that should be avoided. He was barely fifteen steps through before the tent’s half suddenly lit up; every single candle catching flame. Lucio shot up fully with a jolt, sword dropping from his hand and clattering to the carpeted floor as he flashed his palms innocently.

It would take a beat for Lucio to fretfully find the cause. Leaned against a support beam stood his worst nightmare—Ezra—his hand stilled in the air after magically summoning flame to all of those candles. Lowering it as he knotted arms across his chest, Ezra considered Lucio with a stare that betrayed nothing, making him gulp.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Lucio,” Ezra said, “or rather, Montag Morgasson. It’s been a while.”

Lucio winced. “Y’know, I really regret telling you my full name.”

“Mm, it’s going to be the least of your worries by the time I’m done with you.” Ezra sneered. “You’ve some nerve, Montag, trying to steal from one of _the_ most infamous thieves along the border.”

“S-screw you! I-I wouldn’t even _be_ here if you hadn’t left me for dead!”

Ezra’s brows rose. “Oh? Are you saying I’m to blame for your recent plague of bad luck?” he asked. “Come now, Lucio. The only one to blame is yourself.”

“Well, it all started right after I met _you_,” he spat. “So, you must be the cause of all of this!”

“All of what?”

“I’m destitute, Ezra! _Destitute!_” Lucio threw his hands up. “Barely any coin to call my own, no work coming my way. It’s complete bullshit that no one needs a hired sword. You’ve done _something_. I’ve been turning to petty thievery for _months_ just to get by!”

Ezra tut-tutted him. “I did nothing at all,” he said. “Besides put you in your place, of course.”

“Stop denying it!”

“I am denying nothing, Montag. Simply stating that your cause for petty thievery is all your own. From me, however, is a foolish endeavor.”

“T-this isn’t petty thievery when it comes to _you_; I’m taking back what’s mine.”

“You mean knickknacks of silver and gold?”

“Precisely.”

“I didn’t know your dignity was worth so little.”

Lucio growled with such ferocity, Ezra stilled. The satisfaction of actually making him react was dashed aside, however, when Lucio scooped his sword off the floor and pointed it at the magician. Ezra’s surprise fell to a dull look, his curved smile edging on a snicker.

“Cut the shit, Ezra,” Lucio snarled. “Empty your pockets and give me all that you have.”

Ezra spread his arms. “I currently have nothing on me at the moment, Montag. As you can see, I’m actually dressed for bed.”

“Then point out what’s of value in here. I’ll just take it and go.”

Ezra tut-tutted him again. “Oh, Montag… Montag…” he said as he approached him. He stopped short of the blade’s point pressing softly at the revealed flesh of his middle from his loosely worn sleepwear. Much to his chagrin, though his eyes were glancing to it every so little while, now Montag’s eyes were pinned on the dark skin. “You’re free to cut me down where I stand, or…”

Lucio crooked a curious brow. “Or?”

“You can hear out my proposition. I assure you, it’s a tempting offer.”

Lucio huffed, beckoning the tip of his sword at Ezra as if trying to physically draw an explanation out of him. “Go on, out with it. I don’t have all night.”

“Hm. Pity. My offer requires just about that amount of time.”

“What…?”

“You see, Montag, I am a man in want of nothing. I don’t desire, I simply take at my own behest. Such is the life of a thief. However, since my, mm, _encounter_ with you some time ago, nothing has satisfied me since.”

Lucio narrowed his eyes. “What are you saying?”

“I’ve had sex a dozen times over since we were together, but all lacked the spark I felt that single time with you. It puzzled even me that of all people, _you_ were the only one to make me feel that way. I deign to admit it, but I want to feel that again. So”—Ezra rose two fingers and slid it along the convex middle of the sword—“instead of risking your life for trying to end mine, how about once more, Montag? Then you can slip off into the night, never to think of me or us or this ever again.”

Lucio frowned. It was insulting that Ezra even _made_ the offer; did he think so low of him that he would simply agree to sex and nothing more? Then again, of all people, Ezra was a constant in his thoughts every single day of that damn year—swinging from intense hate for his very existence to a burning desire not even his hand could satisfy. It was difficult keeping logical thought as his lust took him over; drawn out by those dark eyes studying him intensely.

Lucio swallowed dryly. “A-and if I refuse?”

Ezra glanced to the support beam. “Well, we’d just have a repeat of last time,” he said. “I’m sure you’d rather not have that, Montag; it was rather humiliating, wasn’t it?”

“Worse than death.”

Ezra hummed, sidestepping the sword to clear the distance between himself and Lucio. He rested his hand gently on Lucio’s forearm and insisted his sword down; he obliged with easy give, the tip tapping the carpeted floor. The smile quirked on Ezra’s lips made Lucio burn with shame; the satisfaction within it palpable as he gave in, much to his chagrin. Yet, no matter how he looked at it, Lucio was on the losing end—Ezra would take what he wanted, thief that he was, willingly or not. The very thought of that stirred his loins unexpectantly.

Ezra’s eyes glanced down, then up again, his smile widening. “I take that as a yes?”

“I’m not convinced yet,” Lucio ground out.

Ezra shook his head. “A shame your body is more honest than your mouth,” he said. “What shall I do to persuade you?”

“Use yours.”

Ezra tipped his head to the side, confused by such a reply, until he threw it back and gave a bark of laughter in realization. His eyes glinted mischievously, absolutely taken by the turn of events. “Gladly,” he purred, catching hold of the belts about Lucio’s middle and swinging him to the support beam. Lucio stumbled over his feet before his back slammed against it; his lips caught in a crushing kiss.

Every fiber of his being, strung high as if he were a marionette ready to put on a show, relaxed considerably before Ezra. Lucio groaned against the man’s lips as he angled his head the other way; his gloved hands sliding along the periwinkle silk or satin of Ezra’s top. Lucio hadn’t half a mind to determine which with his entirety so preoccupied (though he wouldn’t deny, whichever it was, it was expensive beyond reason). 

Ezra slotted himself against Lucio, kicking his legs apart to knee his loins. Lucio gave a throaty grunt that almost broke his composure; eyes squeezing shut as he tried to hold his crumbling sensibilities. This proved difficult as Ezra seemed to strip it away with the belts, sashes, and scabbard from his waist and toss it aside as if they were stray pieces of trash. When Lucio opened his eyes once more, Ezra trailed fingers down his chest, making him draw in a sharp breath.

“For someone so reluctant previously, you seem to want this,” Ezra said against Lucio’s lips.

Lucio harrumphed. “Doesn’t mean I’m still _not_ reluctant.”

“How so?”

“It feels like I’m selling myself short.”

“Mm, a small price to pay, in my honest opinion.” Ezra popped the button to Lucio’s trousers open. “There is no price for humility, Montag.”

“As I’ve started to learn.” Lucio released a slow breath as Ezra pressed a kiss to his chest and dragged his lips down, lowering himself to his knees. “Especially for the likes of _you_.”

The warm breath of Ezra’s chuckle against his loins made him buck slightly. If the magician noticed, he made no comment, instead preoccupying himself with freeing Lucio’s cock from the strained hold of his drawers. Much to his chagrin, there was something gratifying _finally_ having another’s hand on him—doubly so when it was the touch he was bereft of for a year.

“What a curious state you’re in,” Ezra said, studying him. “I’ve barely had my hand on you, and you appear close to release.”

“S-shut _up_.”

Ezra tilted his head. “And how might you expect me to do that?” he teased. He said this right over the head of Lucio’s cock, feigning obliviousness as it throbbed.

Lucio reached down and thumbed the corner of Ezra’s lips. “You’re not a dumb man, Ezra. You clearly know what I mean.” He detested how his tone dropped an octave, taking on a tender, almost vulnerable, note.

_As if I'm desperate for this, _Lucio thought.

“I guess that’s the closest thing to “please” I’ll get out of you, hm?” Ezra said. “I looked so forward to this, yet you’re proving to be a disappointment.”

Whatever retort Lucio had for the magician was cut short by a hissed, “_Fuck_,” as Ezra laved his tongue against the underside of his cock before closing lips about the head. It was here his hold finally gave; tipped wholly on Ezra drawing release out of his with each bob of his head. All thoughts stymied in Lucio’s mind save the irony of the support beam keeping him up; he distantly thought it failed to do even that as he kept sliding down, only to forcefully keep himself upright by digging his heels into the carpeted floor.

Ezra’s steady machinations came to a halt after what felt like an eternity; Lucio’s cock slipping from between his lips only to stand steadfast before him. Lucio grunted yet again; there was something discomforting to be released to the nip of the air so suddenly, making his drop his heated gaze downward with a hint of a glare. This dissipated but a second later when he saw Ezra catch a string of saliva from his lips with the back of his hand and wipe it away, replacing it was a headiness that longed to have him burn the image into his mind.

“You know, I’ve been told I was very good at this,” Ezra said. He began to pump his hand up and down Lucio’s cock. “Most I pleasure would’ve cum by now. You’ve surprising tenacity, Montag.”

Lucio couldn’t help the smirk that tipped his lips upward even as he hardened with each upward draw of Ezra’s hand. “I’m stronger than most, if you were unaware,” he said between clenched teeth, two beats from the orgasm Ezra once commented on.

Ezra unwound his hand from about Lucio, tilting his head curiously. “But not strong enough, it appears,” he said.

The teasing lilt to Ezra’s tone was infuriating. The heat in his belly suddenly shot upward and burned across his temple. With a strength unbeknownst to him, Lucio caught Ezra and dragged him to his feet. The magician blinked at him, lips twisted with a huff. Unlike Lucio, Ezra didn’t like to be manhandled, and even fought off the mercenary by backpedaling a step from him. Lucio refused him anymore distance, pulling him into a kiss that stilled him. It broke but a beat later as Lucio peppered more across his neck, behind his ear. Ezra huffed again; his ears were his weak point.

Lucio catching the soft flesh between teeth made Ezra’s heart leap into his throat. He barely managed a reply when Lucio asked him, “Your bed. Which way?”

Ezra quirked his chin in the direction of a slit in the canvas barely visible beyond a partition. “There,” he noted. 

How the two managed to make it to Ezra’s quarters proved questionable for both of them. It was a dizzying whirl of lips and limbs, but somehow or another, Lucio—or perhaps it was Ezra with the lead—had dragged the other to the adjacent “room” of the tent. There, the two fell upon the bed, Lucio over Ezra. Once again, distance proved negligible, as it was Ezra this time who pulled Lucio into a kiss. His own arousal now became apparent as he rolled his loins sinuously up against the mercenary in tandem with the laving of the tongue inside his mouth.

Lucio wasn’t sure which to concentrate on first; Ezra didn’t hint of what he preferred. He opted for the magician’s lower regions, dragged fingers over the erected lump, but Ezra caught his hand and twisted it away. He pulled back from their kiss to tut-tut the man, making him frown deeply.

“No, no, Lucio,” he said. “No touching.”

“What am I supposed to do then? Just watch?”

Ezra’s face brightened from a smile. “Precisely.”

Lucio took offense to be denied more by the magician, but his hand didn’t drift to him again. Instead, he watched as Ezra unknotted the loosened sash of his top from about his waist and then stripped his pants off. Lucio swallowed thickly from the sight of unmarred dark skin and then upward curve of Ezra’s cock against his lower abdomen. The magician reached down and gave himself a single pump that had him throwing his head back and legs quivering. The moan that escaped him morphed into more; his flushed cheeks reddening darker as Lucio’s eyes remained trained on him.

“Ezra,” Lucio breathed, bending forward to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Let me touch you.”

Ezra shook his head even as Lucio’s voice hit him at his core. “_Mmph_, no,” he returned. “You can’t.”

“Why not?”

“You have to, _mn_, earn the right.”

Lucio scowled. “You’re such an asshole.”

“At least, _hah_, I’m not as foolish as a, _mm, _man who got caught in the middle of stealing.”

Lucio knew he wouldn’t get anywhere with Ezra—he’d only sass him, as was his default way of conversation, it seemed. He opted for his own teasing by hooking a hand under the magician’s thigh and spreading his legs apart. For once, Ezra didn’t fight him, but did appear perturbed to have his previous demand of no touching be ignored. This flickered to desperation when Lucio began to work his cock against Ezra’s rear.

“I want you, Ezra,” Lucio muttered to him.

Ezra swallowed thickly. He deigned to allow Lucio anything at this point, but he longed to finally receive what he’d been waiting for. Giving in, he motioned to the small bedside table. “There,” he said.

There was something almost comical to Lucio upon seeing the small, olive-colored phial of oil on the tabletop. He wondered for a brief moment how long it was there, how many times it was _used_, as he picked it up and saw it to be noticeably full. The pearly smile upon his face silently mocked Ezra about this, making the magician frown in annoyance yet again. He didn’t need to say a thing for him to know exactly what he’d tease him about next.

“Had sex “dozens of times”? What a farce,” Lucio said as he coated his fingers in oil and reached forward. “I didn’t take you to be a liar, Ezra.”

Ezra bit his bottom lip, muffling a moan. “_Hush_,” he spat. “I-I never said—_ungh_—those partners were recent, Montag.”

“I don’t believe that either,” he returned.

“Then w-what do you believe?”

“That you longed for me,” Lucio said, “just as I longed for you.”

“Lies.”

Lucio harrumphed. “Don’t lie yet again. You said it yourself—you felt a spark with me. I was the only one to satisfy you.”

“Believe what you will, Montag. I know the truth.”

Two fingers smoothed into Ezra with some expected give, but Lucio negotiated the resistance of the puckered orifice and slowly began to work them in the magician. Ezra stiffened immediately, unable to relax as Lucio’s hastiness got the better of him. The mercenary knew not much would come of his workings; even if he did, Ezra’s body didn’t lie about how long it’d been. It would be a tight fit either way.

As if reading his mind, Ezra’s hand released his cock and caught Lucio’s wrist. “Enough,” he said. “Just put it in.”

Despite angling himself for just that, Lucio gave pause, asking, “Are you sure?”

Ezra gave him a hooded look. “You were eager all of this time, Montag,” he said. “Now you’re reluctant?”

He frowned. “I don’t want to hurt you,” Lucio said.

“Mm, a mercenary—a hired sword, no less—who doesn’t want to bring harm.” He gave a small laugh. “I’m sure that’s a first.”

“_Ezra_.”

The corner of the magician’s lips quirked up. “I’ll be fine, Montag,” he said. “A little pain is nothing.”

The magician’s words were hardly reassuring, but Lucio took them in stride as he began to push himself into Ezra. This proved difficult—not only from the force required of him, but also Lucio’s forbearance against cumming then and there. The heat that envelope his cock was gratifying, too _good. _The grunt that rose out of him was echoed by Ezra as the two tried to find a sense of control. As was always the case, this dissolved once Lucio began to move.

Ezra couldn’t manage a thought against the heat spearing within him. He could only babble incoherently, exchanging between Lucio’s name and for him to do him harder, as the head of Lucio’s cock teasingly hit that spot within him every other thrust. It was agonizingly good, slowly but surely tipping Ezra toward orgasm. Arms and legs twined about Lucio when his cock throbbed, a pearl of cum forming on the tip.

Finally touching him, Lucio thumbed it away, drawing a guttural groan from Ezra. This rose into innumerable moans as the mercenary began to work him in tandem with his thrusts. Ezra came minutes later, splattering strings of white on his lower abdomen. Lucio followed suit a moment later, emptying into him with such force, both of them stilled.

Lucio collapsed on Ezra, spent. The magician felt he was in the right to push him off, to comment he was too heavy, but he instead tightened his hold on him, carding fingers through his flaxen locks. He couldn’t deny he was satisfied in both body and soul. The fact that he had to seek out that out from Lucio is what disturbed him the most.

Lucio shifted just enough to catch Ezra’s lips in a brief kiss. When he pulled back, the mercenary wore the brightest of smiles—akin to a boy just given a treat. “Was that good enough for you?” he asked him.

Ezra hummed. “Honestly,” he said, “once didn’t feel like enough.”

“But once was all you asked of me.”

“True, but I’m beginning to this it wasn’t.” Ezra shifted a little as he felt Lucio harden within him. “And by the looks of it, neither was it for you.”

Lucio flushed. “Apparently not.”

“Then satisfy me again, Montag,” Ezra said against his lips. “Until you’re satisfied yourself.”

Lucio swallowed. “That might be a small while.”

“Mm, we do have all night,” Ezra said. “So, take all of the time you need.”


End file.
